


Awakening

by ModernArt2012



Series: Otayuri Week 2k17 [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Arguments, Asexual Character, Established Relationship, M/M, OtaYuri Week 2017, Please read the beginning note for the CW, Sexual Identity, Sexuality, There is no sex though, This is a (very) late Entry for Otayuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernArt2012/pseuds/ModernArt2012
Summary: Day Five - Fears/ EncouragementYuri Plisetsky and How He Gained Some Identifiers.(Sexual Identity when You're Not Het but Not Precisely Gay is Difficult. Especially when you don't have words.)





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Day Five - Fears or Encouragement
> 
> CW: Yuri is asexual in this fic (not that he has the word for it at the beginning of this fic) and tries to initiate and force himself through a sexual encounter. He also fails to respect a “Stop” from his partner. This is not okay by any means on either count, and not treated as such. Similarly, Yuri deals (badly) with internalized ideas about what is and isn’t “normal”, especially in the context of “(not) desiring sex”. While we know that in the canon universe, there’s no external homophobia or the like, I like to conjecture that the ability for a human to dislike themselves and try to achieve “normality” is still fully in play. And if the “normal” is for people to have sex .... well, Shit Hits the Fan. 
> 
> Please be aware of your own triggers and limits and if any of the above make you uncomfortable, please exit this fic.

“Yura,” was all Otabek was able to get out before Yuri pounced, hands grasping, legs pinned close to Otabek’s hips and mouths clashing. He’d been hesitant to do this, still wasn’t sure, but it’d been so long since they started dating Yuri couldn’t fathom why Otabek hadn’t pushed for more. It was normal to want more after so long, right?

 

“Let’s have sex, Beka,” Yuri disengaged his mouth, for a half second, enough to murmur the words against his boyfriend’s mouth, before diving back in.  

 

If he was at all ill at ease with the prospect, it was fine. He’d faced large crowds and big competitions with bigger stakes, this was nothing. He closed his eyes and kept pushing through the tight feeling in his gut. He experimented with undulating his hips, the way he’d seen in porn.

 

Whatever, it was just nerves, he’d get over it. Yuri pressed closer, into Otabek and clung. Because Otabek was responding, tongue twining around Yuri’s, hands clutching his rolling hips and sliding back, under the waistband of his sweatpants. His eyes shot open with alacrity, and met Otabek’s as he _froze_.

   

    It was only a _second_ , a _fraction of hesitation_ , and Yuri tried to cover by throwing himself back into the act of kissing Otabek. Kissing was fine. Was comfortable even.

 

    Unfortunately, Otabek had already stopped, was pushing Yuri away, and _no no no_.

 

    “Yuri, Yuri, _stop_.” Otabek leaned as far away as the couch would let him, lips swollen and flushed but his eyes burning with something other than lust. This was not going the way Yuri needed it to.

 

    Yuri scowled, tamping down the anxious fear nerves bubbling inside him, “C’mon Beka.” He tried to follow after, recapture Otabek’s attention, but his arms locked and kept Yuri at arms length. It felt like a slap to the face.

 

    “Yuri what are you doing?” The question was quiet, calm and Yuri raged.

 

    “Beka, if you can’t tell what I’m doing then I’m doing it wrong.” Bravado was always the best cover. If it would cover the panic and residual trepidation, then things could get back on track and everything would be fine.

 

    Otabek shook his head slowly, “No, I mean, what are you doing when you’re not ..., “ he made a noise of frustration, tight and low in his throat, “... one hundred percent on board with the situation.”

 

    Yuri scoffed, “Not one hundred percent on board? Beka, _I’m_ the one who jumped on you, I asked for it.” He smirked, a challenge and a promise he did not feel the ability to deliver. But fuck that, normal people had sex all the time. One hurdle to get over and then no one would think him broken -

 

    Otabek’s face fell carefully blank, the same face he used in front of strangers. “And I’m not sure why.”

 

    Yuri leaned forward, projecting want and promise as best he could. “What’s there to understand? Normal people have sex - “

 

    “People don’t shake like leaves when initiating sex!”

 

    Yuri startled, eyes widened as he pulled up a hand and found that the _traitor_ was trembling. “Fuck it, Beka. It’s no big deal - “

 

    Otabek pushed Yuri off his lap, eyes seething, “No big deal? Yuri you were going to - “

 

Yuri landed disgracefully on his feet, teeth bared in a snarl, “I _was_ going to! My choice! What does it matter anyway?!”

 

    “The _matter_ is that you were going to put yourself through something you weren’t ready for!”

 

    “Ha! No one’s ever completely prepared the first time out are they?”

 

    Silence descended, cold and cruel. “Then why did it feel like you were forcing yourself?” Otabek’s tone was soft yet firm, like he was announcing a fundamental Truth of the Universe. The world was round and Yuri tried to force himself to have sex with Otabek.

 

    Yuri stiffened, enraged and affronted, “You know what, fuck this - I’m headed back to the rink.” He grabbed his previously discarded bag and slammed out of the apartment.

 

Stupid Otabek, ruining a perfectly good plan, he seethed. It would have been fine, it would have all gone _fine_  and Yuri would have gotten over his stupid aversion towards sex same as every _normal_ _human_. He snarled, wordlessly as he kicked a stray bottle, letting it sail into the twilight with all the strength of his impotent rage.

 

As he reached the ice rink and let himself in, his mind turned towards the catalyst of all of this shitshow. Fucking Viktor, he sneered as he tightly laced his skates. Stupid fucking _Viktor_ who could never _leave_ well enough _alone_.

 

After all, who goes around prying into the private lives of others, besides busybody _babas_ ? It’s no one’s fucking business, for fuck’s sake, if Yuri’s having sex with Otabek. If he’s _had_ sex with Otabek.

 

If Yuri had been hoping to have the rink to himself, he was shit out of luck. Katsudon was already there skating compulsories, going round in circles with mindless direction. He didn’t even notice Yuri entering the rink.

 

Fuck this shit, the rink was big enough for the both of them. Yuri plugged in his headphones and queued up his favorite playlist. If he couldn’t scream into the night externally, then this would have to suffice.

 

Yuri launched himself into a quick series of step sequences without preamble, working his already sore legs to the screaming beat in his ear. Yakov and Lilia would murder him tomorrow when he could barely hobble, but who the fuck cared?     

 

    Unfortunately, Yuri’s night was already shite and very quickly descending to hellish nightmare territory. Mid-twizzle, tight and neat, he lost track of the fact that he wasn’t alone and skated right into Katsudon.

 

    They bounced off each other, then the ice. It was the last straw. Tears pricked his eyes and he held them back by sheer frustration and spite, emasculated and enchafed by his own inability to _want_ his boyfriend in all the ways everyone said he should. Chris was always perfectly ready to jump into bed, and even Mila had described ... bed activities with clear anticipation and enjoyment. There was even a period of time when Viktor was a walking mattress for anything with a face and could consent. Why couldn’t he ...?

 

    He laid back on the ice and scrubbed at his eyes, willing stupid Piggie to think he was simply smarting from the sting of hitting his head. “Eh, Yurio?! Are you alright?!”

 

    Fucking Katsudon. The geezer needed to just go ahead and retire if he was losing his situational awareness. It was just calling for someone to end up badly injured. “I’m fine, Piggie,” he ground out, even as he hoisted himself back to his blades and ignored the offered hand, ignoring the way his vision was still watery. That stupid serene smile greeted him and even after so long the sight irritated him. He locked his stance and glared.

   

    “What Piggie?”

 

    Katsudon was unfazed in the face of his impotent rage. “Are you feeling alright?” He paused, tilting his head so that his glasses flashed in the light. “You’ve looked ... preoccupied for the past week or so.”

 

    About as long as he had been considering Viktor’s remarks. “I’ve got shit on my mind, got a problem?” He snarled ineffectively, too much bite and vitriol but it all washed away from the older man.

 

    “Would you like to talk about it?” And of course, Piggie _would_ offer, and be sincere. But, no, even fucking Katsudon wouldn’t understand. _He_ was probably being normal and having stupid lovey normal sex with his stupid normal fiance and being not stupidly _uninterested_ in his fucking hot partner.

 

    “That was quite a lot of ‘normal’s for a single sentence.” And fuck the Universe Entire, that was out loud. “Come Yurio, let’s go talk about this idea of ‘normal’.” Yuri followed after Katsudon, nominally because Katsudon was dragging him but also because _Piggie hadn’t been disgusted or appalled or reacted negatively?_

 

    When they are finally situated on a bench, skate guards on and everything twilight silent, Yuri can’t help but blurt, “Why aren’t you saying I’m broken?”

 

    Katsudon has the audacity to look puzzled, “For what?”

 

    “For not being interested.” Yuri hunched into himself. “Interested in sex, or finding people sexy or wanting to have sex with people.”

 

    Katsudon examined him, and Yuri felt small and flayed apart - what was he seeing, exactly, what did it matter, clearly Yuri wasn’t _right_ in any way shape or form and it _showed_.

 

    “Yurio, I think you need to see something. Ah, sorry, it’s in English.” Katsudon tapped quickly on his phone, then passed it over to Yuri. He felt his eyes widen and his pulse pound like he had just completed a full run through of his free skate, no marking.

 

    “What - this - how?” He jerked around to stare at Yuuri.

 

    “I have had similar - ,” Yuuri began, then stopped. “I have more information at the apartment, if you want to read it?”  


* * *

 

    Yuri had bags under his eyes that looked worse than a racoon come morning and there was distinct soreness to his hips and back that would have otherwise made him a grumpy mess, but he somehow felt lighter than he had in a long while. He lets Mila coo at him, and does his best to ignore the living shit out of Viktor _(because Katsudon isn’t a half bad dude, and deserves better than that narcissistic asshole but seems stuck on him, so one day of peace is what Yuri is willing to offer in exchange)_ , and lands a series of flawless triple axels because he can and no one can stop him. (Okay, Yakov scolds him something fierce, but it doesn’t matter, _triple axel_.) Even the half day of training can’t get him down - the off season means some downtime.

 

    The only thing keeping Yuri from floating off the surface off the surface of the Earth is the person he hasn’t seen all day. Otabek’s off day was juxtaposed against his own, with today being his most rigorous in comparison to Yuri’s, but normally he’d be around the rink and they’d get to grab at least a few minutes to themselves. But he hadn’t shown up around the rink, and wasn’t at the studio or gym (as far as Yuri could find) to his concern. He did need to speak with his boyfriend (unless they weren’t boyfriends anymore? Was last night bad enough of a fight that they weren’t dating anymore? Wait, shit, what if - what if the whole _asexual_ thing was a deal breaker?). But wherever he’d hidden himself, he’d still have to head back to Yuri’s apartment (hopefully he was still there).

 

    Maybe he should pick up some dinner, just in case.

 

    He finally got back to his apartment and felt the relief wash through him at the sight of Beka’s sneakers by the door. If Beka was home -

 

    Otabek poked his head into the foyer, eyes wide and voice concern, “Yura!”

 

    Yuri paused mid-toeing off his shoes, “Ah, Beka! I was looking for you!” He didn’t get much farther, body suddenly enveloped and ear hearing the steady thump of Beka’s heart.

 

    “Thank God. Where were you? You didn’t come home last night!” Yuri’s chest was tight, squeezing painfully at the way Otabek was looking at him, eyes alight and searching.

 

    “I- I ran into Piggie. At the rink. We... talked. And then it was late, so I stayed at Piggie and Viktor’s.” He paused, “But! But- that’s not - I need to talk to you.” They both froze, before Yuri rushed on, bravado emboldening him, “About last night. I- I have some stuff to talk to you about.” His insides were ice again, and his stomach stormier than Moscow’s waters lit by lightning.

 

Otabek smiled that soft and warm one that made Yuri feel too big on the inside, made him feel like running. Shit. “Of course Yura.” He took the takeaway bag, “I’ll get plates, be right there.”

 

And that was... compromising. Given that he had no idea what to say to start this shitfest off, it gave him time, but _it also gave him time_. If this was the way Piggie felt all the time, then no fucking wonder he sometimes crapped out in competition. What was he supposed to say -?

 

The quiet clink of plates against wood brought him out of his thoughts abruptly; Otabek, quiet as usual. Neither of them commented on the fact that the meal was definitely not approved by either of their nutritionists.

 

If tension could be a physical object, Yuri was sure that he’d find it squarely between himself and Otabek in that moment. This would definitely suck but: “I’m pretty sure I’m asexual.”

 

    His heart stopped the way Otabek froze, then restarted in triple time. “Ah.”

 

    Yuri barreled ahead, afraid of the sting of his eyes and the clench of his throat, “And I didn’t realize - I thought I was just _broken_ \- and I’m sorry I - but Piggie talked to me and it’s like breathing after a hard practice- there’s a word and others - and I’m just... are we okay?”

 

    He hadn’t realized just how quickly he was speaking, how much he was tense and tight and clenching his fists until Otabek carefully unrolled his fingers, “Yura, _zhanym_ , I... I sort of figured? Just, some of the things you said before?” He lifted Yuri’s hands to his lips, pressed careful kisses to the red and throbbing skin there. “I wish I had known you hadn’t known, I would have ....” He trails off, lips thinned and unhappy, then sighs, “There’s nothing wrong with us. I love you, no matter what.”

  
    Yuri felt his eyes sting and overflow, but let Otabek gently - so gently, how had he ever deserved such a gentle hearted soul? - wipe away his tears, press soft kisses to his cheeks. There was a long night of talking ahead, and they would both be exhausted in the end, but if Yuri had _this_ , maybe, just maybe things weren’t going to be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> zhanym - my soul, my love
> 
>  
> 
> So, this a VERY late entry for Otayuri Week 2017. I know. Things (school) got wildly out of wing. But! It's done! The other two days will be finished as inspiration strikes (and if I find my plots!), but they're not priority because I have other fics to complete in process and those take priority for me. The other two days will be done though, because I hate incomplete weeks. Personal pet peeve, don't worry about it.
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on my tumblr (same userid) and scream with me because I am trash!


End file.
